Montgomery Kolacky Days royalty introduce themselves at the Czech May Day KCHK Radio tent, from left to right, Miss Congeniality Tayla Kline, 1st Princess Olivia Skluzacek and Queen Neysa Anderson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
NEARLY EVERY SMALL TOWN community celebration comes with royalty. And Montgomery, Minnesota, is no exception. While attending Czech May Day in this Le Sueur County town on Sunday afternoon, I saw a whole lot of royalty.
Gathering around the May Pole for a royal photo before the pole raising. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I am impressed by the poise and confidence of these young women who represent not only their community, but also their Czech heritage. They are well-spoken, graceful, truly deserving of their royal positions.
A sampling of the Kolacky Days queen portraitsringing the walls of the Arts & Heritage Center of Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Since 1931, Montgomery has crowned princesses and a queen during its annual late July Kolacky Days celebration. Kolacky is a Czech treat, a sweet bun with a fruit or poppyseed filling. Montgomery calls itself the Kolacky Capital of the World and perhaps rightly so. These folks love this Czech pastry, which is baked in home kitchens and by the thousands at Franke’s Bakery, a community staple since 1914.
The flag of Slovakia, which was once part of Czechoslovakia, flies at the Czech May Day celebration. The flag of the Czech Republic also flew. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Montgomery’s 2025-2026 Masopust King Isaak Worm introduces himself. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
A royal sash. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
There’s a whole lot of pride in being of Czech ancestry and I love that about Montgomery. These folks share their heritage, teaching all of us about culture, food, traditions and more still celebrated and honored generations removed from the homeland. They celebrate Czech Masopust (which has a Masopust king), Czech May Day and Kolacky Days.
Royalty take a break to visit and enjoy the May Day entertainment. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
You’ll find Montgomery’s royalty at these events, promoting community and heritage. Area high school juniors living within a five-mile radius of Montgomery or neighboring Kilkenny are eligible to enter the Montgomery Kolacky Days queen competition. They are judged in three categories: interview, talent and evening gown.
On the state level, Miss Czech Slovak Minnesota represents the Bohemian heritage. Here she holds a May Pole ribbon in Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Those chosen as the queen, first and second princesses and Miss Congeniality must then attend 15 specific events during their year-long reign. Now that takes time and commitment. They are rewarded with not only scholarships, but also new friendships, travel and a wonderful opportunity to shine a spotlight on Montgomery and its Czech and Slovak heritage.
I saw lots of these red royal family t-shirts at Czech May Day. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I observed lots of support for these young women who represent Montgomery in traditional Czech costumes at events throughout Minnesota. Their families sport red t-shirts with “Royal Family” emblazoned across the back. Elementary-aged girls also wear red tees reading “Kolacky Days Royal Little Sister.” Future princesses or queens perhaps.
Miss Czech Slovak Minnesota Queen Sarah Langridge of Prior Lake holds a May Pole ribbon. She moved from Europe to Minnesota at age eight. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Even the current Miss Czech Slovak Minnesota queen attended Czech May Day in Montgomery entertaining the crowd in song, but mostly gracing everyone with her presence.
Gathering around the May Pole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
As these young women mingled and later wound ribbons around a May Pole, I considered how much they care about their Czech culture and heritage—enough to carry on a royal tradition of 91 years.
A section of Montgomery’s Main Street with Franke’s Bakery (known for its kolacky) on the far left and Pizzeria 201 on the right. In the distance to the right is Heritage Park, site of the Czech May Day celebration. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
MONTGOMERY, MINNESOTA HAS CZECHED the box on one more reason to love this Le Sueur County community of 3,200 some 20 miles west of Faribault. That’s Czech May Day.
Czech royalty wait in line at the KCHK Radio tent to introduce themselves to the crowd. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Sunday afternoon, on a sunshine-filled spring day as perfect as they come in southern Minnesota, Randy and I headed to Montgomery to Czech out this annual event. What we found at appropriately-named Heritage Park were a community, a region, a whole lot of people proud of their Bohemian roots.
A member of the Czech Heritage Club sports celebration buttons on his vest. Some he’s been to, some he hasn’t. (MInnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
A member of the Czech Heritage Club even tried to convince Randy and me that we might have some Czech blood given our German ethnicity. I suppose it’s possible, but unlikely based on knowledge of our family ancestries. But who are we to disagree with a man wearing a traditional Czech vest plastered with buttons like BOHEMIAN POWER and A KOLACH (kolache/kolacky) A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY? He even schooled us about “Minnesota’s Czech Triangle,” which includes Montgomery and the neighboring communities of Lonsdale, New Prague and Veseli.
Czech dancer topiaries, Alenka and Vlada, created by Meghan Petricka, a former Miss Kolacky Days queen, welcome attendees to the Czech May Day celebration. Czech and Slovak flags fly in the background. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Mostly, though, this event was about music and dance with entertainment by the Czech Area Concertina Club,St. Paul Czech and Slovak Folk Dancers, and Sokol Children Dancers. I was mesmerized by the mostly women and girls spinning and circling and stepping, their colorful skirts twirling as they moved to the steady rhythm of Czech music that sounded a whole lot like a German polka to me. But I am no music expert and, I suppose if I asked my new Heritage Club friend, he would be quick to explain the difference.
Dancing in traditional dress. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Dancers wore flowers and ribbons on their heads. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
The dancing included jumping. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
On this day it was not as much about learning as observing and enjoying. I watched and photographed, weaving in and out of the crowd, pausing, too, to take it all in, to be in the moment. I saw precision and concentration in well-rehearsed dances. I especially liked the mixing of ages, how women and elementary-aged girls paired, seasoned performers mentoring the young, passing along heritage to the next generation. Their joy was palpable as they clasped hands, leapt, spun. I found myself tapping my foot.
Members of the Czech Area Concertina Club make music. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Likewise, the Concertina Club set my foot bouncing and my mind wondering. How can these musicians possibly manage to press the right buttons while also moving their squeezeboxes in and out? But they did and created pulsing music in the process.
Raising the May Pole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
It was the May Pole, though, and subsequent dancing which centered the celebration. The raising of the Majka by a team of men was, in itself, impressive to watch. Randy suggested I sit in a “safe” location lest the towering conifer, stripped of its bark and topped with a ring of flowers and spruce top, topple. He needn’t have worried about my chosen photographic position. These guys, using thick poles, ropes, sawhorses and brawn, easily guided the Majka up and then into a pre-dug hole before stabilizing and securing it. They made the process look easy.
Grabbing ribbons on the May Pole. Two circles circled the pole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
The floral wreath near the top of the May Pole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Ready to circle the May Pole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Montgomery Kolacky Days and Miss Czech Slovak Minnesota royalty mostly comprised the first group to circle the May Pole. I will say, though, as I sat baking in the hot sun, it seemed to take an interminably long time to separate the 16 wide ribbons streaming from the May Pole and to get everyone into place. Yet, once the walk, not really a dance, began around the tree, it appeared to go seemingly flawlessly, at least to me.
Czech treats and other baked and canned goods were available from Czech Sis Kitchen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
American-Czech folk artist and illustrator Doreen McKenney created and vended greeting cards, coloring books and more. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Working at the Czech style hot dog stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
By then I was feeling overheated. So Randy and I headed back toward the van, passing food and beverage stands selling Czech hot dogs and beer, vomacka, kolacky and more. Next time we won’t eat before we come…although we did buy an authentic fruit-filled kolache from two Czech immigrants at the Czech Sis Kitchen.
Painting a wing for the Wing Walk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
We also passed other vendors and a painting station where anyone could dip a brush and work on painting customized wings as part of The Montgomery Wings Mural Walk. That features butterfly wings scattered around town.
Posy Floral & Gifts vended May Day baskets and more. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Art, community pride and heritage—even if not of my German ethnicity—draw me to Montgomery. I love this small town with its old-time bakery, meat market and barbershop, its arts and heritage center, its brewery, historic buildings and signage, its homegrown specialty shops and much more. And now that “much more” includes the celebration of May Day, Czech style.
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FYI: Please check back for more Czech May Day photos. I shot more than 200 images and would like to share a few more of my favorites in follow-up posts.
The Cannon River spills over the dam by the historic Ames Mill. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
WE COME TO THE RIVER. The Cannon River, spilling over the dam by the Ames Mill. Roaring. Churning. Then flowing under the bridge and between the walls of the Riverwalk in downtown Northfield.
Enjoying beverages and time together beside the Cannon River in Bridge Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
We come here on a Sunday afternoon, on an April day of temps pushing into the sixties, the sun beaming warmth upon us, upon the land, upon the river. To sit. To walk. To lean toward the river. To simply be outdoors on an exceptionally lovely spring day in southern Minnesota.
The mood feels anticipatory, joyful, as we walk ourselves, and some their dogs, along the riverside path.
Historic buildings hug the Cannon River (and Division Street) in Northfield’s quaint downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I come with my Canon camera in hand. An observer. An appreciator of the sun, the sky, the warmth, the river, the historic buildings, the people and activities happening around me. In some ways, the scene seems Norman Rockwell-ish, Busy, yet tranquil. A slice of small town Americana. Everyday people enjoying each other, nature, the outdoors. Life.
Fishing by the Ames Mill dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Many carry fishing poles, tackle boxes, containers of bait. Anglers press against the riverside railing, dropping lines into the water far below.
Caught in the Cannon, a sucker fish. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I watch as a young man pulls in an unidentifiable-to-me fish (later identified as a white sucker by my husband). His friend snaps a photo of the proud angler and his first catch of the day.
The top section of the Riverwalk Poetry Steps. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
After hanging around the river by Bridge Square for a bit, I descend the colorful Riverwalk Poetry Steps, a river poem crafted by a collaboration of 17 poets. We come to the river starry-eyed/across bridges reaching out to neighbors/over the river’s rushing waters…
Following the Riverwalk to find a fishing spot along the Cannon River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I trail behind a couple, a family, a dog, another family, all of us connected by the water, by this place, on this spring day. I’m the only one to pause and read the poetry.
A family fishes the Cannon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Atop the river wall, young women sit, sans shoes, while they fish. We all watch the river flow. Bobbers bob. A pair of ducks—one pure white—flies low, skimming the water before landing upon the surface of the Cannon.
“Lady Cannon,” a riverside mural by Maya Kenney and Raquel Santamaria. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Across the river, Lady Cannon watches. Fish swim in her tangled waves of locks, flowing like water down steps toward the river. She is the art of the Cannon.
On the pedestrian bridge looking toward the Cannon and the Ames Mill, right in the distance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I see art, too, in a railing shadowed upon the pedestrian bridge. I linger, mesmerized by the moving water, the riverside historic flour mill a block away.
There’s so much to take in here. So much that connects us. The sun, the sky, the land. And the river that flows beside and below us.
A bison photo by Jim Brandenburg hangs to the left and the photographer talks about his work in a video, right, inside the Brandenburg Gallery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
IN MY EYES, he was Minnesota’s best-known photographer. Exceptionally talented. No one even comes close to matching the wildlife and nature photography of Jim Brandenburg. He died April 4 at the age of 79. Not only has Minnesota lost a creative icon, but so has the world. Brandenburg’s prolific work was featured in National Geographic Magazine, earning him the publication’s coveted Lifetime Achievement Award in 2023. His award-winning photos were widely-published internationally. He also published numerous books featuring collections of his photos.
The entry to the Brandenburg Gallery, located in the Rock County Courthouse square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
But there is perhaps one lesser-known place where Brandenburg’s images can be found. And that’s in the Brandenburg Gallery inside the historic Rock County Courthouse in his hometown of Luverne. That’s in the extreme southwestern corner of Minnesota. The prairie. My prairie.
Light plays upon walls, floors and Brandenburg photos in a stairway display. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
Eleven years ago I toured that gallery, studying and enjoying a sampling of Brandenburg’s images. Many in this collection are prairie-themed. Because I’m a photographer, I viewed his photos with a more focused perspective, noticing angles, light, background and all the components which come together in creating an outstanding image.
Some of Brandenburg’s photo books. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
Every photographer understands that light is the very basic element to consider in shooting photos. Brandenburg challenged himself to take a single picture per day between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice. The result is his collection of photos, Chased by the Light: A 90-Day Journey, a favorite of mine among his books.
Beautiful natural scenery on the prairie near Blue Mounds State Park. The part of the prairie where I grew up is not rocky like this and is a bit further north. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
When I traveled to Luverne in 2013 to visit the Brandenburg Gallery and other attractions, including Blue Mounds State Park, I was returning to the wide open land and big skies of the prairie, the place that shaped me as a person, photographer and writer. The same can be said for Brandenburg. He loved the prairie and, in fact, established the Brandenburg Prairie Foundation aimed at southwest Minnesota native prairie education, preservation and expansion. His organization partnered with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to purchase nearly 1,000 acres of untilled Rock County prairie, creating Touch the Sky Northern Tallgrass Prairie National Wildlife Refuge.
Those environmental efforts are revealing. Brandenburg cared deeply about the land, especially the prairie. After college, he returned to the prairie and worked as a picture editor at The Worthington Daily Globe. While there, he freelanced for National Geographic Magazine. And so his career developed until he became that homegrown photographer whose work so many worldwide grew to appreciate and love.
Wolf photos displayed in the Brandenberg Gallery. Brandenburg’s published books include Brother Wolf–A Forgotten Promise. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
I admire photographers who excel in the craft. And Brandenburg certainly excels in wildlife photography, a specialized field that requires much more than understanding photo basics. Photographing wildlife requires incredible patience and knowledge of animals. I have neither. But when you look at a Brandenburg photo, it’s like you are right there up close with the subject. Perhaps a wolf—one of his favorite subjects. Or bison. You can see the deep respect Brandenburg holds for these creatures of the wild.
A familiar scene to me, autumn leaves photographed in the Big Woods of Minnesota, within 20 miles of my home and showcased in the Brandenburg Gallery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
And then there’s landscape photography which, when done well, draws you into a scene and evokes an emotional response. Again, Brandenburg has this seemingly effortless ability to capture the essence of a place and connect it to his audience.
Minnesota has lost an incredibly gifted photographer. But Brandenburg’s legacy lives on in his work, a gift to all of us. And one place to find that is in the Brandenburg Gallery in Luverne. On my beloved prairie. On Brandenburg’s beloved prairie.
FYI: The Brandenburg Gallery, 213 E. Luverne St., is owned and operated by the Luverne Area Chamber of Commerce. It’s open from 8 a.m.-5 p.m. Monday-Friday and from 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Saturday. Admission is free. All photos featured in this post were taken with permission of the Brandenburg Gallery in 2013.
A banner in downtown Madison, Wisconsin, shows the state capitol. I love Madison with its lakes, green space, bike trails, etc. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
FOR WEEKS, RANDY AND I wanted to drive the four hours to Madison, Wisconsin, to visit our second daughter and her family. But each time, one of us was sick with or recovering from a cold. We were not about to make the trip until we were both fully healthy. Last weekend we were.
Friday morning we packed, loaded the van, then hit the road, crossing the Mississippi River into Wisconsin at La Crosse. That marks about the half-way point from Faribault to Madison. By early afternoon we’d arrived at our daughter and son-in-law’s home in the capital city.
Holding Grandpa’s finger. This is not Everett’s hand, but that of our eldest grandson, now in kindergarten. Photo used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I couldn’t exit the van fast enough. I wanted to see my grandson. Everett was born in mid-January and I’ve only seen him once in person since then. Video chats and photos filled the gap. But they are not the same, as we all know.
That sweet baby boy, who was an even 10 pounds at birth, now weighs nearly 17 pounds. He’s filled out. He’s smiling, cooing, interacting. And this grandma couldn’t have been happier. I watched him, cuddled him, played with him, read to him, talked to him, kissed him, rocked him, fed him, burped him, rubbed his tummy… Randy and I sent the parents out on a dinner date so they could have time alone together and we could have time alone with our grandson.
There’s nothing quite like spending time with a baby, especially a dear one, to make you forget about all the craziness happening in the world. And we know there’s plenty of chaos and reasons to feel concerned on multiple levels right now. I needed to be with Everett…to calm my spirit, to distract me, to remind me of love, of peace, of hope for the future.
In the days I spent with Everett, we bonded, grew our love for one another, gazed into each other’s eyes. Precious precious moments that I hold now in my memory, in my heart. I miss him so much already.
I called him sweet baby, darling boy, my love, all terms of endearment that carried a heart full of love.
(Book cover sourced online)
When I read It’s Hard to Be a Baby, a picture book written by Cheryl B. Klein and illustrated by Juana Medina, to Everett, his mama and I laughed. Babies have no idea, none, how difficult it is to be an adult sometimes. I’m thankful they don’t. But I suppose babies do struggle occasionally when we adults can’t figure out why they’re crying. Are they hungry, cold, tired, in need of a diaper change, bored…? None of us have quite figured out why Everett is so enamored with the living room ceiling fan. It’s not even turning. Yet he smiles broadly and coos every time he sees that fixture. It makes him so happy.
I love watching my second daughter with her son. Miranda’s a natural. So loving and tender, deeply in love with this baby who nearly cost her her life. She experienced severe postpartum hemorrhaging after Everret’s difficult birth. He was big; she is not. Miranda needed blood transfusions. A team of doctors and other medical staff at UnityPoint Health-Meriter Hospital in Madison worked to stop the bleeding and save her. I shall be forever grateful to them. This was a reminder that, yes, there can be complications and women can still die during childbirth.
Located at the entry point to Minnesota near La Crosse, Wisconsin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Since Miranda became a mom, I feel, too, a strengthening of our relationship in this shared experience of motherhood. I’m the mother of three, the grandmother of three. Two of my grandkids live only 35 minutes away. But not Everett, and that’s hard. So I whispered in his ear, “Move closer to Minnesota.” Then I turned to ask my daughter, “Did you hear that?” She did.
An artistic interpretation of the night sky painted on the underside of the water tower in Cosmos, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
THE NIGHT SKY HOLDS a vastness that makes me feel small. It’s mysterious and dark and, in some ways, intimidating. Yet, it possesses an alluring beauty that draws me to gaze heavenward. To imagine. To delight. To stand in awe of its infinity.
Fascination with the night sky seems universal. Kids, like my kindergartner grandson and, years ago, my own son, fixated on the solar system and all the night sky encompasses. I, too, find it interesting, although not to the degree of learning everything I can about the expanse above me.
Rather, if I learn of a newsworthy event in the night sky, I may step out after dark to look. Right now, that’s a seven-unit “planet parade” of Mercury, Venus, Jupiter, Mars and Saturn visible to the naked eye after sunset and Uranus and Neptune visible via a visual aid.
My first view of the space-themed water tower in Cosmos. The town is located at the intersections of Minnesota State Highways 4 and 7. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
All of this reminds me of a cosmic discovery I made this past fall while on the back roads to Morris in far western Minnesota. In the small town of Cosmos, population around 500, in southwestern Meeker County, I discovered a unique space-themed water tower and community event, the Cosmos Space Festival.
The underbelly of the Cosmos water tower is themed to space. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
With a town name like Cosmos (originally called Nelson), it should come as no surprise that the community would build on the Greek word meaning “order and harmony.” The cosmic focus makes this place along Minnesota State Highways 7 and 4 stand out among all the other little towns in this part of the state. When I spotted the water tower with a space shuttle, planets, stars and more painted on its underbelly, I immediately wanted to stop and photograph this work of art, this town identifier.
You’ll find cosmic street names in Cosmos. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
In the process, I discovered that all the streets are named after planets and constellations and that the town celebrates the Cosmos Space Festival annually on the third weekend of July. That started in 1969 as a celebration of man’s (Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin in Apollo 11) first moon landing. I’m old enough to have watched that monumental moment in history on a black-and-white television.
Cosmos Space Festival banners hang throughout the downtown, shown here. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
The Cosmos space fest has been going strong ever since, marking its 57th year on July 17-20, 2025. The festival features your usual small town celebration activities like street dances, softball tournaments, city-wide garage sales, a hog roast, pedal tractor pull, pony rides, beer garden, fireworks, parade and much more. That includes the crowning of fest royalty—Little Miss Universe and Man on the Moon. Gotta love those cosmic titles.
And you gotta love how kids (and adults) get excited about the night sky. Locally, River Bend Nature Center is hosting its annual Minnesota Starwatch Party from 8-10 p.m. on Thursday, March 27, with retired meteorologist, amateur astronomer, stargazing columnist and author Mike Lynch. I attended the starwatch party with my husband and son many years ago. Lynch brings telescopes and vast knowledge, so this is a hands-on educational program.
The memorable water towerin Cosmos, zip code 56228. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Another opportunity to view the night sky through telescopes happens more frequently, from 8-10 p.m. the first Friday of every month inside and outside Goodsell Observatory on the campus of Carleton College in neighboring Northfield. I’ve been to this free monthly activity twice, again years ago with my husband and son. The next open house is on Friday, March 7. But only if the night sky is clear for viewing.
The Cosmos water tower is among the best I’ve seen. It’s interesting, unique, artsy and makes this small Minnesota town stand out. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Whatever your interest level in the night sky, it’s fascinating. Vast. Dark. The subject of poetry and song and science. And above all, it’s a cosmic wonder, whether viewed from Cosmos, Faribault, Northfield or your little place in the big wide universe.
The historic post office in Northfield, Minnesota, holds an art treasure. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
OF ALL THE TIMES I’ve visited neighboring Northfield through the decades, I’d not once stepped inside the downtown Northfield Post Office. Until last May. I’ve frequented Bridge Square across the street, admiring the public art I often find outdoors in this park along the Cannon River. Yet, I never thought to look for art inside the impressive limestone structure angling around a corner of the town center.
The mural above a row of mailboxes was designed by Margit Carson Johnson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
But inside the historic 1936 post office, I found a massive piece of public art designed by Northfielder Margit Carson Johnson. The commissioned work defines the essence of Northfield. The city is perhaps most famously known for the townspeople’s defeat of the James-Younger Gang in September 1876 as the outlaws attempted to rob the First National Bank. Johnson’s 1986 mural, though, doesn’t show that. The entire bank robbery history can be learned a few doors down at the former bank site, now the Northfield History Center.
The Dakotah Wahpekute, also known as “Leafshooters,” were the original inhabitants of the land that would become Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Rather, the mural on the east side of the post office lobby visually summarizes Northfield’s early history as home to the Dakota Wahpekute, then settlement as a farming (dairy and crop) and milling (flour and sawmills) community, followed by growth as a center for education (St. Olaf and Carleton Colleges), industry (including Post Consumer Brands cereal, formerly Malt-O-Meal) and tourism.
Farmers plowed the prairie grass to seed wheat. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
For anyone who knows little to nothing about Northfield, the folk art style painting completed by a team of volunteers is a good starting point to learn the basics about this community. It’s a visual Cliff Notes type of guide.
Founders John and Ann North are depicted in the painting of Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Like many early Minnesota settlements, rivers and railroads determined the location for new towns. Northfield sits along the Cannon River, a source of water power for early milling and a route for trade. Today the river continues to center this community, creating a picturesque and engaging downtown core with businesses along Division Street backing to the river. A River Walk leads locals and visitors riverside to appreciate the natural beauty of water flowing through Northfield.
My favorite part of the mural, probably because I grew up on a dairy farm, shows Holsteins. The buildings are actual buildings in Northfield, including the historic Archer House, destroyed in a fire several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
I love Northfield, once promoted with the theme of “Cows, Colleges and Contentment.” It’s still that, although with fewer dairies than once defined the area. Today the local tourism website tags Northfield as “Close to Home/Far From Ordinary.” That fits, too.
A view of the River Walk and the historic Ames Mill (to the right in the distance) from the pedestrian bridge spanning the Cannon River in the heart of downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
Northfield ranks as a popular tourist destination with its James-Younger connection and its many home-grown shops housed in historic buildings in a downtown that fits the definition of “charming.” The setting is decidedly comfortable and homey and as picturesque as a Norman Rockwell painting. There’s a seasonal popcorn wagon in Bridge Square, anglers fishing along the river, an old-fashioned barbershop with barber pole…
Northfield’s much-beloved seasonal popcorn wagon at Bridge Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
There’s a strong sense of community and of community pride in Northfield. Art matters here. From riverside murals to poetry imprinted upon sidewalks to artwork showcased inside the Northfield Arts Guild to theatre, concerts and much more (including at the two colleges) the arts flourish.
Beautiful Bridge Square, Northfield’s town center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2022)
And inside the aged, massive post office, once slated for closing, the folk art mural designed by Margit Carson Johnson stretches above a wall of mailboxes to reveal the core story of Northfield. From the Big Woods to the once glacial meltwater-fed Cannon River, from the Wahpekute to dairy farmers, from tallgrass prairie to the city it is today, Northfield thrives.
The Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa, seats 2,100. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
A TIME EXISTED when ballrooms centered weekend entertainment and socializing across southern Minnesota: The Monterey Ballroom in Owatonna, no longer a dance hall, but an event center. The Kato Ballroom in Mankato, today primarily a place for banquets, wedding receptions and meetings. The Gibbon Ballroom in Gibbon, once the site of Polka Days, now closed. George’s Ballroom in New Ulm, demolished. The Blue Moon Ballroom in Marshall, destroyed in a 1981 fire. Ballrooms, as they once were in their heyday, are mostly non-existent or altered in usage.
Inside the Surf Ballroom, portraits of Ritchie Valens, left to right, Buddy Holly and J.P. Richardson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
But just across the border along Interstate 35 in northern Iowa, an historic ballroom remains open and going strong. That’s the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, an 84-mile or one hour and 15-minute drive from my community of Faribault. I’ve been there. Not to dance. But to tour the venue that marked the final performance site for Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson on February 2, 1959.
This display inside the Surf references “American Pie.” Displays like this line spaces in the museum part of the Surf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The next morning, a chartered plane carrying the trio crashed in a field shortly after take off from the Mason City Municipal Airport, killing the musicians and pilot, Roger Peterson. February 3, 1959, was, according to singer and songwriter Don McClean, “the day the music died.” The tragedy is forever immortalized in McClean’s 1971 “American Pie,” a lengthy song I know well given I was a teen of the 70s.
The ballroom stage, where a crew was setting up for a LeeAnn Womack concert during my visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
Ten years have passed since I visited the Surf Ballroom. But nearly every January, I mentally revisit that experience of walking onto the wooden floor of the iconic ballroom and immersing myself in yesteryear. It’s not that I’m a big Buddy Holly fan or even into music all that much. But I can appreciate the significance of this place in rock ‘n roll history.
In the back of the ballroom are layers of booths, all original. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The three musicians, plus Dion and the Belmonts, Frankie Sardo, Waylon Jennings, Tommy Allsup and Carl Bunch, were on a 24-day Winter Dance Party tour through Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa when they so tragically died. They had been crisscrossing the Midwest in a tour bus, playing in big cities like Milwaukee, Green Bay, St. Paul and Duluth, but also in smaller towns like Montevideo and Mankato in southern Minnesota. That Mankato performance was January 25 at the Kato Ballroom. Following the February 2 gig in Clear Lake, Holly decided to charter a small plane rather than endure the 364-mile bus ride to Moorhead for the next stop on the tour. That decision proved fatal.
The marquee advertises upcoming events on the day I visited in May 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The Winter Dance Party continues to this day at the Surf Ballroom as a way to honor the rock ‘n roll legends. This year’s celebration is January 30 – February 1. Closer to home, the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault is hosting “Buddy Holly: Oh Boy!” at 7:30 p.m. Friday, January 31. The next day, Saturday, February 1, the show will be at the State Street Theater in New Ulm at 7 p.m. This is a re-staging of Holly’s Winter Dance Party.
This sign inside the front entry summarizes the importance of the Surf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
Whether you’re a fan of Buddy Holly or not, I think it’s important to recognize the significance he held in American rock ‘n roll culture. Music, in many ways, is like an historical account of life. It carries messages, entertains, connects us to memories and events, and touches us emotionally. And when the music died on February 3, 1959, the nation cried.
This stacked album sculpture in Three Stars Plaza honors Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The Damsite Supper Club in Pine River, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
SIX MONTHS AGO, Randy and I met friends, Sue and Charley, for lunch in Pine River while vacationing in the north central Minnesota lakes region. We enjoyed our meals and conversation at the Damsite Supper Club, which really isn’t a supper club by my definition, but which serves damn good food. It sits across the road from the Pine River Dam, thus the restaurant name.
A section of the beautiful rock riffle dam on the Pine River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Afterwards, our friends headed back to their Hackensack home while we poked around Pine River. I love exploring small towns for all the treasures they hold. And Pine River holds many, starting with the Kindness Rocks Inspiration Garden, just across from the supper club and river bridge.
The kindness garden celebrates kindness and Bryce Mink. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
This is what it’s all about–love and loving one another. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
In a bend of the rock river by the lily, a memorial stone quotes Christopher Robin in A.A. Milne’s “Winnie the Pooh”: “Promise me that you’ll always remember that you’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Kindness rock gardens, or simply scattered kindness rocks, are, in my opinion, an inspiring addition to any place. Every time I find kindness rocks, I feel a surge of happiness. The positive messages and art painted, written or drawn onto rocks (technically stones) always uplift me.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Peace, a universal message, a universal hope, a universal prayer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
An overview of the kindness rock garden, which curves like a river. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
And right now I feel like we could use a whole lot of kindness rocks in this country. Boxcars full. Truckloads full. Cargo holds full. Dump them upon the land. Let them rise like mountains or flow like rivers. Let inspiring words, followed by acts of kindness, generosity, love, compassion and care, spill upon the soil and take root.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Bryce was known for his kindness. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
“We love Bryce” kindness rock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
In Pine River, the Kindness Rocks Inspiration Garden grows from tragedy. The corner community garden honors the memory of 11-year-old Bryce Mink, who died nearly two years ago on March 12, 2023, a month shy of his 12th birthday. Bryce went into cardiac arrest, was airlifted to Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis and died two days later. He had undiagnosed lymphoma with a large mass pressing on his chest, restricting his airway, impeding CPR efforts by his mother and resulting in brain damage.
Not only DO your best, but BE your best. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
This is nothing short of tragic, to lose a child unexpectedly, so quickly, so young. But to see Bryce’s legacy of kindness continue in that public park, well, that says something about the impact he made on his community. Bryce was described as “a kind boy and a friend to all.” I believe it. Children, at that age, are often not yet tainted by the unkindness of adults. They live life unencumbered. Make friends easily with most anyone. Play. Learn. Smile and laugh and love and live with exuberance. It’s no wonder we often wish we could still be kids, free of the challenges that come with adulthood.
An encouraging message, even in the most difficult of days. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
It’s tough being a grown-up sometimes, especially now, in a country that seems lacking in the very basics of decency and kindness. Certainly not in everyone and not everywhere, but in too many people and places.
The essence of kindness rocks, to shine your light in a positive way. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Perhaps it’s time we pick up a rock and, instead of hurling it, print a message of kindness upon it. Write of goodness, generosity, compassion and care: Peace. Do your best. Be kind. Shine your light. Then live those words. Like Bryce did.
A scene from downtown Benson, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2024)
SOME 170 MILES separate my community of Faribault from Benson, a small agricultural community in west central Minnesota near the South Dakota border. At first glance, it seems the two share little in common. But they do, a discovery I made following a brief stop in Benson in late November.
Bishop Henry Whipple, featured in a mural on the bandshell at Faribault’s Central Park, across the street from the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Bishop Henry Whipple, the long ago Episcopal bishop of Minnesota, links Faribault and Benson. Whipple, a missionary based in Faribault, traveled around the Minnesota frontier in the early years of statehood in an effort to spread the Christian faith. That included visits to Benson where, in 1879, Christ Episcopal Church was built for $1,650 by local carpenters. Whipple visited occasionally to lead services and confirm new members.
That early Gothic Revival style church with gray board and batten siding caught my eye during a brief drive around Benson’s downtown core. More accurately, the seven-story Parkview Manor apartment across the street from the church initially grabbed my attention. The 55-unit high-rise looks very much out of place in this prairie town. It dwarfs residential houses and the historic church. Typically grain elevators and church steeples mark small town skylines, not a towering 1967 apartment complex.
Parkview Manor, where the church was once located. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Christ Episcopal Church once sat on the apartment land, but was moved across the street after the Housing and Redevelopment Authority bought the property in 1966. At some point the church, founded by English and Yankees (as New Englanders were once termed), closed due to dwindling membership. Today the building serves as the Swift County Drop In Center, “a safe haven for adults to go to experience life free of stigma.” I think Bishop Whipple would have liked that, knowing the former church serves as a gathering place, a safe spot to just be.
The church sits in a residential neighborhood near downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Some day I’d like to tour the aged church, which was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1985. Perhaps I would feel the presence of Benson’s early settlers, hear the words of comfort, peace, hope and unity preached by Bishop Whipple.
While Whipple is primarily viewed as a man who befriended Indigenous Peoples, he was also part of the long ago mindset to assimilate and “civilize” them. That’s a side not often discussed when talking about a man, a missionary who shared his biblical teachings while also compassionately advocating for Native Americans. Whipple is highly-revered in Faribault, where he is buried beneath the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, an historic cathedral worthy of visiting, too.
The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2024)
The immense Faribault cathedral differs vastly from the unassuming small church in Benson. Yet, history and a missionary link the two. To uncover that connection simply because I noticed an out-of-place apartment high-rise and then the old steepled church across the street reveals just how small this world really is if only we pause to notice, then uncover the connections.
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